Lucius Foss ☺ Guildless ☺ C-Rank
Y o u c o u l d b e t h e c o r p s e a n d I c o u l d b e t h e k i l l e r
He'd been requested by a middle aged woman, cranky, and that type of person who always looks angry even when their not. This new client of the dark mage's wanted him to rid of a very annoying dog, one that is said to keep her up every night and ruin all of their 'prize winning flowers', or whatever. It was but a simple job, find the wandering beast of a dog, and kill it, simple as that. Now all he needed to do, was find the damn dog. Hopefully it was as intimidating and persistent as his client explained, cause otherwise it will just run away with it's tail between it's legs at the mere scent of Lucius evilly black aura. Which most of the times he liked that animals ran away at the sight of him, but this time he needed it not too.
Walking the streets of Oshibana, he examined the alleyways, and thick bushy areas that might be hiding a dog. Though so far he didn't have much luck, letting out a sigh he walked into a coffee shop. Might as well get himself some tea to hold him off, cause he was getting rather hungry. Which wasn't much of a surprise for the assassin, he was a teenager, it was normal for boys his age to eat a lot. Especially if they are his height, and it's good for him to eat more also cause of how much he works out and such, with all his training. His training was brutal, though he didn't have it as often as he used to as a child. These days if he is trained by somebody it's usually Regina, his pet and companion, the void demon is the person that owns the scythe of which he most commonly wields. Though even then it isn't often, but there are the occasions, usually after he looses himself by going berserk, that his mentor has to train him. Though it seems more like a punishment, though I suppose Inanis meant for it to be that way, a cruel god his teacher is.
After paying the cashier, he left the store with his take out cup in hand, after blowing on it slightly, he took a light sip. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he gently dropped his mechanical hand of which held his tea, to his side. Using his left hand to hit his long braided green hair to his back, his silky hair bouncing slightly when he did so. He often braided it like he has today, it kept it nice and neat and it was easy, and, oddly fun to do. Especially trying different kinds of braiding styles, french, fishtail, dutch, etc. etc. It was a guilty pleasure of his, one that no one but himself knew, that is what people do with their guilty pleasures, they hide them. Yes, he is a psychopathic assassin who also triples as a mage of darkness and a musician, but he has his normal enjoyments. Even if most of them are seeing the lives of humans be destroyed by his own hand, or something of a similar vein.
Traveling the bright and busy streets, he adjusted his cap slightly to make it more effective, along with pushing up his sunglasses. Those of which doubled as prescription glasses, something he needed, due to some head trauma he had as a child, he is now near-sighted. This trauma also cause often recurring headaches, all of it was just very irritating, being photophopic, near-sighted and having constant headaches. Though luckily for the young assassin mage, he didn't not have and current headaches, surprisingly enough for him. For the sake of his light sensitivity, he turned and walked through an alleyway, and kept this up, along with walking darker back roads. Plus it probably held somewhere within them, the dog of which he has to 'end', so to speak.
It had been about a hour and a half trying to find the stupid dog, sitting on a bench to take a break from all this searching. Sure when you go to look for something you can't find it, but when your not looking for it, it pops out of nowhere. Acting like it's been there the whole damn time, just to make you look stupid. Letting out a large huff, he tried to take another drink from his mint tea, but alas, it was empty. Making a slight 'tch' noise, he tossed it aside, ignoring the fact that 'you shouldn't litter' and all that crap, he didn't give a damn. Turning so his legs where now on the bench he laid down, his hands under his head with his elbows sticking out, and the creases under his knees resting on one of the chair's arms. Closing his eyes he let himself drift off into the land of dreams, cause why not? He often slept in places such as these nowadays, considering he no longer had a home. Occasionally people took pity on him and allowed him to stay at their house for the night, and the next night, so on and so forth until the assassin decided to leave. Only really keeping him there for that long because of his body, because of his dashing good looks, he often 'got laid'. Not that he typically enjoyed it at all, it just gave him a nice place to sleep for the night, along with some food to eat and a nice warm shower and or bath.
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